First Year: A Wedding Gift
by Whattown
Summary: After everything's over life moves on. Miroku plots, Inuyasha's confused, Sango learns and Kagome grieves.
1. Plotting

**A Wedding Gift**

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters_

_This is a continuation but technically a divergence and takes place after chapter 557_

A young woman walked through an isolated village in lower Musashi. She was headed to a crowded hut as the sun was setting on a settling down town. Carpenters were packing up their tools, farmers were trudging from the rice paddies, mothers were calling in their children and lanterns were being lit.

Watching all this, Sango longed for a home.

She currently had no home to speak of and was staying with the elderly Miko who in turn was staying with a neighbor woman and her three children. The six of them and the Miko's other four companions, a monk, a kitsune, a little girl and an older boy made for quite a squeeze in single roomed hut. Occasionally a hanyou could be spotted on the roof completing its look of a stuffed crate.

It was an uncomfortable wait while the Miko Kaede's own home was being rebuilt, destroyed by one serious youkai attack.

Sango arrived at the neighbor, Ohama's house but couldn't bring herself to actually enter. The screams of children and loud clanging stopped her. The door hanging was practically bursting from all the people. Instead Sango went to the back and stared in to the drop off of trees and forest the house abutted.

She hummed thinking it was the first quiet time she's had in the ten days since the final battle. The first three had been a stressful blur keeping watch over a patch of dirt waiting for something, someone to show up. While the next week was spent cleaning up damage made by the shouki and tracking down small vermin youkai attracted by all the jyaki still lingering around.

"May I join you?" the sun was almost set making Miroku look like a shadowed and cloaked figure but his voice was warm and lingered in the cool air.

"Sure," Sango smiled at her beloved fiancé. Her back was pressed against the rear of the ruckus filled hut. The monk mirrored her, his upper arm held along hers.

They stood in silence and Sango felt a rising tension, that kinetic energy that bounced between the two when alone. It set the Taijiya on fire. It was that exultation of being with the person you loved and knowing they loved you back.

Sango noticed, for her at least that the feeling had grown substantially since the ramp down. It can happen when obstacles like imminent death are removed from your relationship.

The energy bloomed to chaotic levels when the Monk held her hand and in return she rested her head on his shoulder.

The silence was broken when from the abode behind them came a loud bump against the wall and the laughter of children.

"We should go back inside but …" Shrills of kids were being talked over by a stern woman's booming voice. "It's so loud." Sango's voice was humorous but had a ragged edge to it.

"We'll simply wait out the storm, the children have to sleep sometime" He sounded so calm as if the last ten days spent in a stuffed cabin with three rambunctious children (Ohama's two youngest and Rin) aided by a kitsune prankster hadn't affected him at all. But given he woke up this morning to animated wooden snakes slithering around his face and a chorus of giggling children. Sango was sure it was bothering him.

"Shippo certainly likes being around all those kids, huh?" Sango said snickering at the memory.

"Yeah …" Miroku took a breath before finishing, "Too bad Kohaku hasn't taken to them quite as well."

The three of Ohama's along with all the other children strayed away from the boy. Miroku could tell the kids found his brooding scary. The only one who seemed to enjoy his company was Rin.

"Well he'll come around, besides Kohaku's a bit too old to worry about playing with children" Sango said blithely.

"Hmmm," he noncommittally grunted. _Never mind the fact that the last year of his childhood was utterly destroyed _Miroku thought_._

Quiet came over them again. The monk struggled. He came out here with a purpose, for a confirmation.

"Sango," He turned and stared into her face. The dwindling light only allowed him to see half of her features. They still looked finely carved in the shadows.

_He's finally going to kiss me! _The Taijiya thought, _the dope! I've only been waiting a whole week._

"The wedding," He forced.

_Okay so no kiss but at least we're going to talk about something important._ The proposed nuptials during the mission had only been spoken of in the vaguest possible terms in the post Naraku world. Sango was eager to hammer out the details like where and when this was all going to happen.

"Sango, I'd understand if you want to put off … or perhaps cancel the engagement," the monk suddenly said as if it was a completely measured thing to say.

Sango, shocked was immediately defensive. Shrinking from the closeness of his face, she said "Why would I want to do that?" her voice became even more strangled "I-is that what you want?"

But Miroku was steadfast, he grabbed her hand and held it tightly and forced her to look in his eyes. "Of course not," his eyes took on a sympathetic gleam "I had only thought, at this time you would need to concentrate solely on your brother."

Calmed, Sango let out a breath and enjoyed the warmth and strength of the man's hands. "I don't know what Kohaku needs but I know I _want_ to marry you."

Touched by his thoughtfulness, the Taijiya raised her jaw in preparation to _finally _be kissed. Miroku was close. She could see the rough weaved texture of his robe and breath in the sweaty, smoky aroma of it. See the little rises of skin and dark sprigs of hair along his jaw and the slight bob of his Adam's apple. It was all so different from herself and so wonderful. Almost as wonderful as when he pressed his mouth against hers.

As the young woman wrapped her arms around the Monk's shoulders, thrilled by the feel of his tongue running along her lower lip and the more slippery sensations that accompanied the opening her mouth, she got the most devilish idea.

You see just at the moment Sango was being embraced, a feeling was coming over her, a feeling that appeared at intervals over the past week, that feeling of total and complete exhale, of everything being over, of being alive. After a year of battles and tricks and heartbreak, Kohaku was alive. Miroku was alive. They were all alive. Sure they may have been scarred or damaged or separated but they were living godammit.

And while on this high the flushed woman managed to utter, "You know …. We don't have to until the wedding night."

As soon as the words left her mouth she was mortified. How completely perverted!

It wasn't as if she didn't have those feelings, to lay with a man, Miroku in particular. She just never really had the chance to flirt with the monk. His confident, grabby brand of sexuality and innuendo brought out the prudishness in her… and the fact that any man thought he had the right to touch her without her permission or thought her stupid enough to allow such a thing enraged her to the point of violence. That violence didn't exactly help with lighthearted, sexy banter.

Maybe Sango was embarrassed because she knew Miroku could come up with better pick up lines while concussed.

Meanwhile Miroku's mind was desperately trying to prevent his body from jumping and yipping with glee and then flopping Sango and himself in the dirt behind that dingy cabin.

He had not expected this opportunity to arise in the least nor was he going to try to go any further then sharing secluded kisses before their wedding, _out of respect for Sango, of course. _But apparently his thoughts of respect were in vain.

Miroku's hands during their encounter were slowly migrating down her back and precariously hovered over her bottom but ceased. He would not squander this fortune by scaring Sango with his eagerness. (But it had been over a year! And this was the goddess Sango were talking about!)

Miroku said in a gentle whisper "I wouldn't mind that."

Sango let out a giggle at that. They were still tucked against each other leaning against planks of wood.

"Where shall we go?" he said quieter against her ear. He knew to let her lead.

The taijiya gulped at the sound of his soft baritone. She balanced her chin on the Monk's shoulder, pressing even closer. "They just finished rebuilding that storage hut," she raised. The shed's top half had recently been damaged by shouki.

-o-o-oOo-o-o-

"Well almost finished."

The couple was staring up at the stars through the unfinished, slatted roof of the compartment they shared their first kiss.

"Well it's only a little breezy and the stars shouldn't be too offended by the sight of my backside," Miroku said cheekily, leaning in closer.

It was a pretty chaste joke considering the one telling it but given the situation it was enough to make Sango conscious of herself. The taijiya backed away slightly, crossing her arms.

"Maybe w .." before she could get out another syllable the monk pulled Sango towards him by her upper arms stared deeply at her soft mouth and kissed her.

_Perhaps ravishment is a better option than delicacy _Miroku thought, ushering forth all the seduction power within him.

_This is clearly not his first time _Sango pondered as she felt his knowledgeable caress of fingers and stirring kisses. Too bad she didn't much care _where _the man had learned all this. She was too busy moaning along to his ministrations and simply wishing for him to continue.

"Houshi-s-sama," the woman gasped as he effortlessly laid her down on the bedding where he once lay dying and stroked the inside of her thigh.

There, in that roofless cove of intimacy surrounded by old weapons and barrels of rice, the Taijiya found it quite nice to come to rapturous completion staring up at the stars, regardless of Miroku's backside.

**-o-o-oOo-o-o-**

"I want the wedding to be soon" Sango allowed herself a little dreamy expression. "The sooner we can become a family."

The taijiya was naked on her side, her breasts spilling onto the hay and a pile of crumpled clothes she lay over. Propping up her head she gazed down at her equally nude lover. Sango smiled to herself at being able to rope such a handsome rogue with his black silk hair mussed all over. Little wisps of it curled at his temples with wetness.

He gave her a charming half smile revealing a row of straight teeth, "About that."

Or maybe she hadn't roped him.

"Houshi-sama," she said in a dangerously low tone.

All of the monk's bravado disappeared at that tone. "We're still to be wedded of course," he was now holding up his hands in an attempt to pacify. "I just need it to be a tad bit delayed."

"Really," Sango said as she stood and harshly pulled on her kosode, "and for _what_ reason."

"Well," he coughed, sitting up and tucking his kesa around his waist. "Sango, if I am to give up my life, my soul to you," Miroku said staring up at her rigid form, "I must forsake all other commitments… to my master, to Buddha himself." His fingers were now gripping her hips, looking up with his eyes wide but serious.

Half of Sango meanwhile was trying desperately to convince the other half not to swoon at the monk's dramatics. "Mmm..."

"My poor master Mushin," Miroku turned, his eyes closed and brows arched. He clenched a fist and brought it his chest "Left alone to rot into obscurity in a dilapidated temple with no one to succeed him."

_Oh boy, this is getting ridiculous _Sango internally eye rolled.

"Please, my love allow me to pay penance, ensure that my family's temple be left to capable hands and take care of Mushin- sama before I give up a life of the cloth." Miroku was determined.

_Sure, because he was such dedicated and religious priest before he proposed. _Sango recalled all the times he called his teacher a drunkard and behaved in a very un-monk like fashion.

She also realized Miroku had a respectable side as evidenced by his sizable spiritual powers and reverence for the dead and suffering. The man who taught all this to him was his very own foster father, Mushin.

Sango had been to the temple only once (and once saw it in an illusion) and could only recall a simple Butsuden and a strange burial shrine which she would later learn was Miroku's father's grave. Was it in dire straits? Sango couldn't remember. _Mushin-oshou-sama is quite old _she thought, not a bastion of heath either.

"How long will this take?" the taijiya was still suspicious but faltering.

"Six moons"

"What!"

"He has no other pupils. When I return victorious and without the kazaana he will expect me to stay and take over as head priest. Mushin-sama is very particular and will be very upset when he hears of my intent to marry." A look of introspection crossed Miroku, "It will take two moons just to convince him that my decision is _right_ and another four to find a monk or novice that suits his liking."

_Did he sound almost … regretful? _Sango realized she really had no idea what Miroku's relationship with his adoptive father was like. There was obvious trust and closeness, Mushin was the only one who could feasibly treat and repair the kazaana. He was there when Miroku's real father was consumed. But from what she just heard there was perhaps some burning resentment between the two.

"And there's no way I could perhaps … come with you?" She said sitting down to look into his eyes. Maybe this was a private matter between him and his teacher but Sango couldn't help but think of all the pretty young things the monk could fit in, during those six long months.

"As I've previously said he will not be happy at the idea of me marrying and I would hate to see him act harshly to you because of it" Miroku's voice was unflappable. She was definitely not coming, at least not with his consent anyway.

Sango sighed, "I guess it can't be helped. When do you leave?"

"The day after tomorrow"

The frustrated taijiya exhaled hotly at her fiancé leaving so soon. "Fine, but you listen to me Houshi-sama," She leaned in with an expression most fearsome and a rigid index finger. "If this is some sort of trick, some sort of … long con to bed me and then leave or I find you've been doing anything other than helping Mushin-sama while you're away …" Sango leaned in further and her voice dropped an octave," you know that part of your anatomy I'm newly acquainted with? I'll rip it off."

The monk laughed nervously at the horrifying image. _She would never do such a thing … right? _"Your point is made quite clear, my love but your theory of my journey-long deception doesn't stand up to scrutiny considering it was _you _who propositioned _me."_

Sango forehead began to throb. _THAT'S IT!_

-o-o-oOo-o-o-

The sound of slapping was heard echoing through the mid-night air as a woman marched out of a storage shed, her skirt, stays and obi in her hand fluttering behind her. "Get packing, Houshi!" she called.

Meanwhile a man rather a monk sat in that very storage shed, satisfied. Convincing Sango to delay the wedding and allow him to leave was a substantial piece of his plan _and all done with relatively minimal injury! _He thought, surveying the red, welting hand prints on both cheeks. _When did she learn to backhand?_

Truth of the matter was he hardly had time to visit his master while on his _real_ journey. Miroku had to make a brief stop at the temple; he supposed he could at least tell Mushin of Naraku's defeat. The news of his marriage wouldn't exactly upset him seeing as finding another monk to inherit the temple would be easy. Who wouldn't want to be the Oushou of a temple strategically placed between two prosperous regions, receiving donations and tributes from both? How else would its current head priest grow so fat on sake? Lucky for him Sango knew none of this or of his much more ambitious project.

The day after tomorrow was when he was going to leave. Miroku just had to convince his fiancée of one more thing.

_-o-o-oOo-o-o-_

"What! You want to take Kohaku with you?"

"I think it's best for him to accompany me, it will help him" Miroku said, indicating with his head to the dour boy just outside the hut they were sitting in, sorting herbs with Rin in the afternoon sun."Besides it's a great opportunity to get acquainted with my future brother-in-law."

"But why? it's the first time in over a year we've been together for more than a week." The Taijiya turned her tear filmed eyes to the floor."Why does everyone want to take him away from me? He's still very fragile."

Miroku sighed, any subject concerning Kohaku; Sango loosed all strength and sense. Though it was true, the person who was most concerned for the boy was the one Kohaku did the most to avoid after escaping Naraku's clutches. It would be nice after the death of the evil hanyou for the two just to be together. But the monk had reason to believe, even after Kohaku deciding to live; Sango's presence was still painful and damaging to him.

"His fragility is the very reason I want him to come with me." Miroku really didn't want have to do a song and dance for this. He stared her down, willing her with his eyes to understand and _trust_ him on this one.

Despite the monk's solemn assurances He really wasn't sure this portion of his plan was the best option. Was it good for Kohaku to trek with him on this dizzying and monumental task? But one thing was he was certain. If things continued as he had seen in the past week it would lead to nothing but more pain and grief for both Sango and Kohaku.

Kohaku was raw. So long was he under the control of Naraku and the shard. Even after he worked so hard to overcome his pain Miroku sensed the still present desperation in him. The boy had two paths, antisocial, destructive and possibly violent, likely considering his oncoming manhood. That much anger and confusion in a boy at his peak, when boys that age are so eager to _do_ something (destructive or productive it doesn't matter) was a dangerous combination.

The second path was total withdrawal. From what Sango told him, Kohaku was sensitive and empathic. It was what made it even more painful for her to see what was becoming of her naturally peaceful brother. This personality plus so many traumas would result in a lot blame and self inflicting punishment. Kohaku's massive shame and depression would just cause him to shut down.

And Sango was not helping. The woman was so desperate for her and her brother's relationship to be repaired and return to normal that she was in complete denial of the boy's true feelings. To Sango, Kohaku was still a little boy, delicate and in need of care. She would enable him beyond better reason. If he wanted to lie in bed all day, speaking to no one, she would allow it even encourage it saying 'he needed his space'. If he angrily skulked around the forest, killing small animals or began stealing and making trouble in the village, Sango would defend and protect, 'he's young he's just working out his grief' she would say.

Soon there would be a growing resentment between the two, Kohaku angry at Sango for her ignorance of his real, dark pain and constant patronizing accommodation. Sango mad at Kohaku for not being that little boy she once knew. Miroku loathed the day when she truly realized her relationship with her brother would never be the same.

Miroku knew what the boy needed. He too was once a bitter and grief laden adolescent and it was his Master, Mushin who had helped him. He taught Miroku to release his grief by devotion and salvation to Buddha via discipline, physical and intellectual. It's what allowed him to be to be so advanced in combat and spiritual power at such a young age. But more importantly (and more relevant to helping Kohaku) Mushin taught him the pleasures of living. There's nothing wrong with reveling in the feel of a woman or relaxing into that sweet place when you've drunk just enough sake. All those things eased his bitterness towards his fate, towards his father and grandfather for condemning him to a measured, early death.

Mushin's technique, of course was not his plan of attack. Kohaku was a bit too young for a visit to a teahouse. But Miroku hoped a trip of hard work but relaxed cheerfulness and a chance to give a gift to his sister would allow the boy to be a boy. Kohaku had plenty of strength and duty it was happiness he was missing. And maybe a little sake, god knows he deserves it.

Yes he had a plan. Sango just had to agree to it without knowing what it was.

During Miroku's internal monologue and the couples' emotional stare down, Shippo choose to trot in and ask if Miroku and Kohaku were really leaving tomorrow.

"No! No one has agreed Kohaku is going anywhere!" She returned indignantly.

Shippo, who had really just stepped in to sneak a mid day snack and was trying share light conversation with his friends, innocently replied, "Really? Because Kohaku just told me he was going to see Miroku-sama's temple."

Sango desperately turned to her fiancé, "you already told him? He wants to go!"

"Well … yes." The monk did his best to be soothing, stroking her shoulder, "Please Sango."

The agape women turned to her brother who appeared at the doorway.

"Ane-ue don't be upset, I want to be in service of your future husband."

The Taijiya was uncomfortable being out of control but she was outnumbered and tired of fighting a losing battle. Once again she acquiesced.

_-o-o-oOo-o-o-_

The next morning the mixed youkai group was able to move back into Kaede's hut and they were able exchange goodbyes there. Rin in particular was teetering on hysterics and Shippo since last night had been strongly hinting about wanting to go and Miroku refused to acknowledge any of them. Inuyasha who had been quiet about the whole affair steadily warned the two to stay out of trouble.

It was Sango, with Kilala circling her ankles, which sent them off at the edge of town. "Okay and you have all the food I packed, yes?" She was looking more anxiety ridden than usual. "Kaede-sama suggested I dry some meats, I've never done it before so I hope you like it."

"Yes, Ane-ue you've said that already," Kohaku was already exhausted by his sister's fretting.

"I'm sure we will love it," said Miroku, trying to diffuse. "Goodbye Sango, my darling."

"Goodbye Hou … erm Miroku," he was her fiancé why couldn't she remember to call him by his name! "Goodbye Kohaku," all of the forlorn longing of their relationship was in her voice.

"Bye Ane-ue," the boy was already ten feet along the path.

Miroku gave one last wave and gander to his lover's shapely figure before following Kohaku.

After a minute or two of walking, "WAIT!" called the taijiya, still stuck to her spot but realizing something. She ran to them carrying her cream colored, youkai companion. "Take Kilala with you, just in case," she huffed to the pair but clearly looking at her brother.

The neko hoped onto his shoulder. "Alright, we have to go now," the boy said in a quiet but serious sort of way.

"Alright" The woman had the beginning of tears sparkling in her eyes.

Sango was face to face with her brother, Miroku at her right. The monk swept an arm around her and tucked her against his chest. It was a little improper in front of Kohaku but he hated to see his love so dejected. His embrace was trying to translate that they must leave now for things to get any better.

"Take care of him." Sango's weepy voice was muffled by a purple robed shoulder.

"Of course"

And with that the two, now three were off towards the Temple.

**-o-o-oOo-o-o-**


	2. Conversations

The woman walked back to Kaede's refurbished home, overwhelmingly dejected.

Why? Why couldn't they all stay here? A village Sango had grown quite comfortable in.

Kohaku's continued rejection was one thing, one very painful thing.

But Miroku, just when she thought she had the monk figured out, had him tied down he threw her for an incredibly humiliating loop. She thought back to his finely set eyes. Miroku certainly had a way of being mysteriously conciliatory.

He had always made her feel as if he had some secret, some wisdom beyond her. But it was something she had to believe was true. _Miroku please help Kohaku._

She stared down. Sango's hemp zori were terribly frayed, matching the rough state of her traveling clothes. The taijiya juggled her options. Ohama offered her sewing lessons; she could learn and feel clean and presentable in her street garments for once. Or she avoid the dreadful task and find Inuyasha or Shippo for something distracting to do.

She headed off to the direction she last saw Inuyasha.

-o-o-oOo-o-o-

Inuyasha had spent this nine day period trying to get his bearings, attempting reconcile what he thought his place to what it actually _was._

Returning from the mediou sans Kagome he expected their group to do as all people did who no longer had business with each other, separate. But strangely they did not. The monk left but with the assurance of returning, Kohaku one of those assurances. Inuyasha was also sure the monk and taijiya still had business with each other, for their entire lifetime he supposed, as married humans did.

Once realizing Kagome's needs were with her own family and settling her in her own home, he got faint notions of travel. His strength now exceeded that of any youkai in his land. Inuyasha could feasibly go anywhere, maybe even beyond his country.

But Shippo, Sango and Miroku's faces, waiting anxiously. Even after what happened with Kagome they were still glad to see him alive and successful. No sooner did he have a warm bowl of stew and rice in his hands did not only his friends but the entire village entreated upon him for help. To repair, to clean away shouki and youkai, all things he felt much obliged to do (he grumbled his thanks to a wench five hundred years in the future.)

So it continued this assumption of help and general expectation of him staying.

Not only that, but his bastard of a brother left his young charge in this village. Inuyasha had the distinct feeling the girl was now under his protection. Asshole! He dare think Inuyasha was just going to care for his dumb little girl. Inuyasha grumbled into the high branches of the tree he was resting in. He supposed he had to now.

All of this irked Inuyasha to no end. Not just because all these people took him and the possibility of him leaving for granted. But that assumption spread something warm within him and crawled across his skin making him restless.

Now he was stuck in this two bit town with nothing to kill. Sitting, away from the much detested village he was even more restless.

"Heyy," Sango called, seeing a lone foot dangling from a budding tree.

There was no answer for a while then a curt, "Hey."

Sango pursed her lips. She was a bit worried about him. Miroku had warned her not to let him fall back to old tendencies, not to let all Kagome's work on him be for not. Even though she and Inuyasha weren't that close Sango would do her best not to let him calcify back into a giant jerk.

Besides she recently found herself in need of company. "So… how you holding up?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, without Kagome." The taijiya plucked at some bark.

"I'm fine, she's better off. What else is there to know?"

"Yeah …" _Jeez talking to this guy is hard! _"Well were both alone now." She nervously chuckled, "We should do something."

Inuyasha hung his head down to get a good look at her. Really his face couldn't be more incredulous. "… Do something? Like what?"

"Well …" Sango was stumped. The only thing they really bonded over was killing youkai and there was none in their apparent vicinity.

The taijiya let out a frustrated breath. She squat down and rested her back against a root. "I don't know, I shouldn't even be out here. I should be with Ohama and the sewing circle."

"Why?"

"You know, learn all those skills – cooking, pickling, weaving, laundry and … sewing." She sighed at the last one.

Inuyasha's indignant snort was louder this time. "Sango, why would you want to waste your time on those things? When the skills you have are much more important."

"You say that, but I'm going to be married and maybe a mother soon. I'm going to need those skills." Sango said thinking of the possible repercussions of her and Miroku's shared evening. She smiled wryly. If that was the case she would hunt him down and force him to marry her right then and there.

"Still stupid."

"Maybe …"

The two had a silent moment, the forest moving and squawking around them.

Sango could respect his want to be alone. She was a bit of a loner herself. The taijiya grew up in a tight knit community but was usually the odd man rather the odd woman out. She often went on solitary exterminations and enjoyed it.

Not like Inuyasha though, she knew he was _really _alone for a long time, which is why she was out here, to remind him he could be alone, but now had a tight knit family waiting for him to come home.

"I can't believe your really marrying that lecher," Inuyasha stated out into the open.

She smiled, "I know. There must be something wrong with my head."

They shared a laugh.

Sango grunted standing back up, "I better go take my lesson."

"Alright"

"Oh and Inuyasha don't go completely wondering off."

"Keh"

Taking that as an affirmative Sango stepped to her fate of house-wifery leaving the hanyou a bit more grateful.

-o-o-oOo-o-o-

_Five hundred years and a few months later_

For Kagome, life, especially school moved on. With everyone already talking careers and universities first week into school, what else could a girl do but buckle down. Looking back, Kagome was grateful for the work load.

She was never the kind to get overwhelmed by tragedy, sure she could appreciate a good cry every now and then but sad things would never halt her. She wouldn't allow life to turn her into some kind of depressed potato. Kagome had always been that way, since her father died.

But given the bluntness of the disaster, the cold magic-lessness emanating from that well. If her school work had been any less, her schedule been less full with every type extracurricular or intensive program she could fit in. Kagome would have succumbed to that clawing in the back of her head. Lost herself to that terrible anxious and paralyzing grief.

But Kagome didn't and wouldn't. She would continue to strive and get A's and win awards until that darkness was small and ignorable.

The last bell of the school day rang out.

Kagome was busy shoving her books into a pale blue bag when a hand thumped against her desk.

"Jeez, Kagome-chan I don't think that's the way an _exemplary _student would be putting her books away." Eri's grin grew wider, "Maybe I should tell sensei."

Kagome smiled at her friend's joke though not fully appreciating it's brilliance due to her ears burning from the speech her teacher gave the entire class calling Kagome the aforementioned 'exemplary'.

"Did he really have to say all those things? Is he trying to make me explode from embarrassment?" Kagome said making her way out of the now empty classroom.

"Don't complain," Eri returned, following the girl. "Remember last year, you were worried for being called out for the exact opposite."

"I guess you're right." Kagome then turned and started against the flow of home bound students. "I'm off to archery and then a F.L.J. meeting" She quickly threw over her shoulder to prevent any propositioning from her friend.

Once a large enough swath of people separated them Kagome pulled out her phone only to be greeted with a text message from the girl she was just speaking to.

_That meetings been canceled. We R going shopping!_

"SEE YA THERE KAGOME-CHAN!"

Kagome slumped her shoulders, but not about the shopping. Eri had a tendency to be generous with lending money to friends who were short on cash (which Kagome woefully was.) But because Eri had recently gotten a boyfriend and instead of spending actual time with him, She preferred spending time with her friends talking about him, asking them what outfits they think he would like and demanding their opinions on his faithfulness.

-o-o-oOo-o-o-

"It's like when I look in to his eyes I feel it but I'm not sure _he _feels it," Eri said slipping a beaded tunic over her head.

"And what about you Kagome-chan," Yuka had joined the shopping party and was now sick of Eri's prattle so she decided to torture Kagome.

"whaa…?" the questioned girl was distracting herself with a particularly expensive and pretty formation of lace.

"C'mon you must have somebody you like," Yuka was seated in front of the dressing rooms inspecting the multiple rings she had placed on her fingers.

"Oh you know her, she loves to play hard to get." Eri sighed pulling back the curtain adorned in a sparkly, short number.

"Guys, I'm not some sort of tease." Kagome said indignant.

"Oh yes you are."

"A tease and hard-to-get are two different things." Of the three, Yuka was least clouded in the head.

"Well whatever. You should have seen her with archery guy, he was all over her." Eri made dramatic hand movements to prove her point.

"Ooh who's archery guy?"

"He's my coach!" Kagome heaved. Did these girls have nothing better to do than scam on her love life?

"Even better, now you have that whole forbidden love thing going on."

"How old is he, Kagome-chan?" Eri was eager to get the logistics so she could get their forbidden love on track.

"He's a senior."

"When you said coach I thought you meant _old, _now I'm jealous I love older boys." Yuka had a lustful longing on her face.

"You could be visiting him in his dorm room next year!"

"Hentai!" Kagome's cheeks were rising in color at her friends' presumption. Were these girls already doing such things? She barely had time to worry about biochemistry class let alone her own biochemistry.

"I didn't mean it _that _way." Eri replied to her friend's insinuation.

"You did a little, Eri-chan" Yuka said raising her eyebrows.

"Hey what about jealous guy?" Eri suddenly remembered. Too bad she missed Yuka's frantic head shaking.

It had been an unspoken rule between the group not to mention Kagome's jealous boyfriend or the day she missed the entrance ceremony, when they found her family screaming into a well-less well shrine. If such things were spoken Kagome would clam up and a block of ice would surround her for days.

And as per schedule Kagome icily replied, "Oh him? He moved away."

But Eri was too blunt, loud and selfish to deal with her friend's angst for too long. "Get over yourself Kagome-chan! I'm sick of your moping. All you do is school work. Just go out with archery guy!"

Kagome was surprised by her frankness but had nothing to reply.

The coldness was soon forgotten. They all laughed at Eri's recent overpriced purchase and finished the outing in a café that was too fancy for them drinking Jamaican coffee none of them really liked.


	3. Flim Flam

During the first few days of travel the monk attempted to break the ice multiple times; light fun conversation. What games did Kohaku like? How did he like the village? Sharing gossipy stories about the villagers or just tales of his own travels, some of them where a little tall, but all in good fun?

But all this talk was rewarded with single syllables or no response at all.

After one morning of silence, Miroku tried once more and would continue to until he saw some spirit return to the boy. "Beautiful day is it not."

"Hmm..." Kohaku felt the power of the forced conversation stretched over days of travel but he felt so awkward. It was actually how he felt around most people all the time.

Kohaku was a boy who had seen too much and found small talk annoying and strained. What was the point of such worthless and flighty wastes of breath? Was it important the monk knew that he too thought it was a beautiful day?

In a way he appreciated what the monk was doing for him, taking him along. So he decided on his own attempt at conversation. "So ... you're truly in love with my sister?" Like his sister Kohaku was suspicious of the carnal and crassly humored monk.

"Oh!" _serious and frank, that's surprising _thought Miroku. But if the boy wanted to have a serious chat he would indulge. "I'm going to dedicate my entire existence to her happiness," he said holding his palm to his chest.

"Hmm" The idea of his sister being married was foreign enough let alone to a monk. He found it odd that two people could fall in love under such violent and chaotic circumstances. Sango told him she had joined the monk's group after they healed and rescued her from Naraku.

But why was _he_ now traveling with this man? He barely knew this man and really wasn't sure of his purpose by traveling with him to his former temple. In all honesty Kohaku just wanted to be away from her –Sango. She looked at him with such guilt in her eyes. It filled him with rage. Didn't she know it was _his_ fault, what right did she have to feel guilt, to feel responsible for his mistakes?

She has always been stern and harsh with him when they lived at the Taijiya village. His mother died giving birth to him and growing up the woman who cooked for him, took care of him was not his older sister as his father wanted but a neighbor woman.

It was clear Sango wanted to distance herself from any of the domestic pursuits that all the other women of the village engaged in. There was always a struggle between her and their father. He was proud of her prowess as a warrior but also torn, wanting her to be married and a normal woman.

When Kohaku got older his sister was kind but loved to goad him. He expressed doubt about youkai extermination, fear about it.

He figured it perplexed her. Something she worked so hard for was his destiny, his birthright to be head youkai exterminator and he didn't want it. As a result she would taunt, tease.

But now that everything was dead and done, something clicked in Sango. Now she was all maternal and gentleness. She even spoke of learning to sew, cook and clean while staying in Kaede's village. All of it rubbed him the wrong way, like Sango was betraying herself. It angered him to think her change was because of him.

"And what about you? I'm sure you know a thing or two about giving your life. What are you going to dedicate it to?" asked Miroku.

The questioned was asked solemnly but it made the boy happy in a way, like Miroku was asking an aged, wise man.

"I do and …" silence, cold steel filled him "Kikyou –sama said, should I live to work to rid the world of evil and destroy all youkai and perhaps the gods would forgive me for all the crimes I've committed and not damn me to eternal suffering." Time for hesitancy about youkai extermination was over.

Miroku cleared his throat. "Well Kikyou –sama was certainly a solemn person wasn't she," the monk wanted to say so many things, he didn't exactly want to talk the boy out of his intentions _but … goodness, how sad._

Miroku was blissfully saved from a conversation he would prefer to have later rather than sooner when out of the forested darkness beside their path came a tanuki. It was Hatchi, the faithful if not a little nervous servant of Miroku. Kohaku was undisturbed by such an appearance. Tanuki's were relatively harmless.

"Hatchi! You old dog! What sort over chicanery have you been up to? I heard you were pulling that old tea kettle gag with some ruffian."

"Yes … well I got burned." The tanuki bashfully replied.

The monk laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder, "double crossed again, huh? What can I tell you? You can only pull that kind of trick with someone you trust. Like yours truly."

"No I mean I really got burned," He turned to show his singed bottom. "He used me as an actual teapot

"Ahh … well , the sentiments still the same." Miroku leaned in to inspect the damage, "you should really get that looked at by a healer."

Hachi turned with indigence, "Miroku- sama I haven't the time. I've been getting all the stuff you asked …."

Miroku franticly waved his hands to silence him and panicky looked to Kohaku. "Kohaku if you would excuse use a moment," the monk said as he pulled his friend into a huddle away from the boy.

The boy was suspicious and a great eavesdropper. He learned Miroku had organized this meeting and the tanuki would be joining them for the rest of the trip, to be use for transport no doubt. The boy's suspicions were raised once again. One of the reasons the journey would take so long is because Miroku insisted the entire pilgrimage had to be done on foot as a matter of penance.

_Now he's full on conspiring_ thought Kohaku. He saw the two exchange something and then the group continued walking, now one youkai heavier. The whole way the two grifters exchanged stories.

But just as soon as Hatchi arrived he disappeared as the crowd of fellow travelers began to thicken and in view was a roadside tea shop.

Miroku's head lifted at the sight of it. It was one of his favorites, located at the crossroads of the large east road straight to the major city of the province and the smaller yet highly connected west road that lead to the more industrial districts. The colorful stand featured a larger variety of dumplings and cakes than your average traveler cantina. And with such a wide arrange of customers, it was the perfect place to do a little panhandling. He was almost out of money after all.

Once entering the vicinity Miroku put on the façade of a humble, itinerant monk, his jaunty spring with a flourishing shakujou was traded for a bowed head and hands tucked into sleeves. He made a collection spot, placing his _sugegasa _on the ground and sitting on a bench the teashop offered. He handed Kohaku the rest of his money, a string of mon and told him to spend as much as he wanted on whatever he wanted, "try to enjoy yourself."

The boy was as usual uneasy, especially in light of Miroku's mysterious behavior but walked into the teashop while Miroku lounged in the meager shade the facility provided.

"WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?" a sweaty man manning the shop screamed into a small alcove where all the sweet smells were emanating. A sharp female voice returned from the alcove with "PRAYING OF COURSE! IF YOU CAN'T SAVE THIS SHACK MAYBE THE KAMI CAN!" The argument continued on but soon blended into the other conversations and arguments being held in the establishment.

The café was uncomfortably loud and warm for Kohaku. Sweat gathered at his brow and a tight, hot embarrassment crossed him.

He_ felt_ like he could handle himself but could barely tolerate this populated teashop. It made him want to return to a quiet forest and just forget living with humans all together. And now the yelling man was in front of him demanding an order.

"Uhhh …well what do you…?"

"We got chadango, mitarashi dango, hanami dango, goma, nikudango and … tea of course."

"All of it … everything, I guess." it was an order out of panic not indulgence. The man pursed his sparsely bushed lips, incredulous. But upon view of a roll of coins he was less so. He accepted the money in his thick knuckled hands and with his usual vigor screamed "All of the dango!" into the kitchens.

Returned was a textured mountain of delights carried by friendly, older woman. She had a heavily lined forehead and eyes which seemed out of place on her kind face but made more sense when it twisted and gnarled to retort to the sweaty man, husband and wife obviously.

Despite the overcrowding and loud marital arguments the scrumptious parcels convinced Kohaku to binge and it was delicious. He loved the soft dough puffing around his teeth. He got to enjoy flavors ,a fullness and a sugar high, that the 12-year-old hadn't experienced in a long time.

He left the teashop with a pile of dumplings for Miroku but found the priest was quite busy. A long line was formed in front of him waiting for the mystical monk to give them a glimmer of the future, for a fee of course. But a discount was offered should you have a pretty female face.

It wasn't long before the irate, perspiring shop owner stormed out, "Alright Bouzu, clear out! I don't tolerate any scammers near my business."

"I assure you I'm no scammer. I only reveal what the kami reveals to me"

The shop owner's wife was behind the man looking just as entranced as the other women standing in the handsome monk's line.

"If you're doing the kami's work why is it you're charging for such a divine service?" He said, briskly gesturing with his fleshy fingers, the way his wife hated.

"I am a simple, impoverished servant. I only suggest a small, humble donation," Miroku's mask of serenity remained.

The group of onlookers had already gathered around the confrontation. "Didn't that Houshi tell me it was 5 mon for a reading or get out of his line?" whispered a member of the crowd behind Kohaku.

"ENOUGH!" The man was unturned by Miroku's spiritual appeals. He gripped the monk by the front of his robes and tore him from his seat. His other hand held the _sugegasa _full of change prepared to fling it.

"But Shopkeeper-san perhaps I can help you with your own troubles?" Miroku struggled out.

The man faltered but then began to shake Miroku more violently, "What do you know about it?"

The wife however had conniption before wrestling the priest away from her husband. "Jun, let the man go! Let Houshi- sama speak!" she barked. Poor Miroku was seated, brushed and deeply bowed to by the wife. "Please Houshi- sama you know of my husband's vice? You can help us?"

"Just because he _guessed _we have troubles –which he still hasn't made clear what he thinks these troubles are- doesn't mean he has spiritual powers."

"True, but I do know of your reputation of gambling, shopkeeper-san. Been quite misfortunate lately, have you not? Perhaps it's the curse."

Jun was silenced but still belligerent, "Curse?"

"Yes, I believe I feel the indicating jyaki," Miroku stood "emanating from your establishment." Then he turned to leave.

"No! Please Houshi-sama use your incredible power to save our shop. This bastard is on the verge of gambling it away!" Jun's wife pleaded to the not quite retreating monk. "SEE WHAT YOU DID YOU BRUTE, YOU BASTARD! HE'S LEAVING!" She raged to her husband.

"No, my sincerest apologies but your husband has made it quite clear he is not interested in my services," He bowed over his upturned hand. Miroku then began to _really _leave muttering "I only weep for you madam. I have a premonition that you of all people will suffer the most because of this vicious youkai that is targeting your husband's luck."

Jun was still being barraged by his wife but that was hardly moving nor new. What was bothering him was the burning in the back of his head. It was literally very painful _maybe I'm feeling the jyaki the monk mentioned _he thought. "Wait …"

"Now let's inspect the premises for that spirit." Miroku, it seemed to reappear in an instant with his collection hat suggestively brought forward. The wife eagerly maneuvered the monk into the shop while the man harrumphed behind them requesting some prove of this sprit before he gave Miroku anything.

o-o-oOo-o-o-o

In the kitchens, Miroku stroked his chin and tentatively held out his hand in an attempt to detect youki. His breath was heavy and even, his eyes were closed and shakujou jangled with slight movement. By now he had an entire audience crowed around the small, weathered, wood lined entrance that lead to the kitchens, the bright, purple door curtain pushed aside. Pots were left boiling and little clay mugs of tea were abandoned in favor for witnessing an exorcism. Miroku quickly inhaled when his hand hovered over a bowl of eggs and the crowd inhaled with him. "These eggs, do you raise the chickens yourself?"

"No but the farmer who does … we're his biggest customers." Jun's wife offered him the bowl. He selected one from the top of the pile and said a prayer over it.

"So what? Our eggs are cursed?" Jun mocked. The fact that his business was being halted was overwhelming his nervousness about the youkai.

"No, but a sign of your bad karma" Miroku easily cracked the egg over a portion of the scrubbed wood table. And there floating along the yoke and whites was a clump of hair. Streaked grey and black, the hair's darkness and grease was increased by the gelatinous material. The strands dispersed with the spreading of the clear jelly. It was disgusting especially to the observers who were making the connection that these were the same eggs that their dumplings and dishes contained.

"What! The chickens …. No that farmer! He's cursed!" Jun was turned, Miroku noted with an undetectable smirk.

"No, this …" he indicated to the hairy mess "is a sign to _you. _A sign from the spirits and I'm afraid of what I must do to reverse the jyaki." He then crouched near a tucked away chest adorned with three locks. "A local youkai is jealous of your wealth and your propensity to horde it has attracted his attention."

"What?" Jun pushed the monk even farther from his collected profits affronted someone even spotted it.

"Give it up, Jun. I knew keeping such a mass amount of money was bad luck. We should give most of it as an offering to the local temple and cleanse our soul. It would rid us of the youkai and you will win that bet on our shop tomorrow, won't he Houshi-sama?

"I thought it was a curse from the spirits," Jun said skeptically.

"It's … ah youkai curse and the spirits are warning us … right Houshi-sama?"

"Uhh well let's not get bogged down with semantics what's important is that you know, shopkeeper –san that I have no intention to have you get rid of your money. I will place a warding on your money to prevent youkai, spirits and even humans from detecting your coins. The youkai will move on and I will also perform a blessing in good luck for that bet tomorrow."

"How much will this warding cost?" Jun didn't fully trust the monk but the possibility of hiding his stockpile from his wife was too tempting.

Miroku humbly offered his hat, "Whatever you deem an appropriate donation to a man of god."

Jun tossed in a few day old bean cakes.

The monk pulled a loosely woven sack out of his sleeve painted with similar symbols of his ofuda. "First you must place all the money you wish to conceal in this purifying haversack."

"Are you kidding me? Do you really think I'm that dumb to put all my savings in a handy bag for you to steal it away?"

"I assure you shopkeeper –san I have no plans to leave this kitchen while performing the ritual."

And indeed Miroku didn't leave the kitchens as he sat in a corner and prepared incense over the bag full of ming. A flair of youki swirled around the hearths, bushels of radishes and turnips and stacked bags of rice flour. It was shocking even to the peasants and traders watching who were unaccustomed to sensing such sudden forces. There was a stirring in the crowd as people tried to distance themselves from the scene. Kohaku, who was both confused and astonished by the scene unfolding, was forced to calm a potential stampede. "Please don't be frightened, I promise there is no youkai here that will hurt you." The boy could say that with assurance, the youki everyone was sensing was wholly familiar to him.

Miroku sealed an ofuda over the bag with certain mastery and dropped the sack heavly back into the arms of its owner. The little chinks of sound music to Jun's ears, he loved that noise when counting his money.

The crowd cleared the way for the monk departure some even bowing as he passed. Miroku's movement was proud as he stood straight and brushed past his admirers with grace. "Kohaku let us leave."

Along their path Kohaku was grappling what to say to the monk. How there simply was no curse or youkai that could be sensed and what happened in the kitchen was Kilala youki flaring. But still there was obviously something sinister happening at that cantina.

But as he was working on a way to vocalize these questions, again the tanuki came into view this time holding stacks and stacks of dumplings, bowls of rice and pickled vegetables and a pot of tea resting by his feet. And as Miroku relaxed and headed towards Hatchi, a clear metallic chinking rung out. It all became clear to the boy. "You did scam that shopkeeper!"

Miroku seated himself on a stone near his servant and before enjoying the spread pulled out the same ofuda marked sack filled with _real _ming. The priest gave him an innocent look as he popped a dumpling into his mouth.

"And that food you're eating was stolen by_ you_," Kohaku pointed to the tanuki, who looked quite alarmed at having a boy carrying a chain scythe looking at him accusatorially. "From all those people while they were watching you scam him!"

"Ahh so you figured it out. Quite observant Kohaku," his nonchalance was stunning.

"What was in the bag you gave him and how did you hide it?"

"See that's where we didn't quite scam him more like an unbalanced trade. That ore in the sack was worth something wasn't it Hatchi?"

"Well I guess… except I stole that too," the tanuki muttered into a bowl of rice he held up to his muzzle.

Miroku cleared his throat, "yes … and the flair of Kilala's youki provided a perfect distraction to switch the bags."

So they were all accomplices. Kohaku eyed Kilala, happily chomping on dried eel. How could she be compliant in all this? "The shopkeeper's gambling? How did you know about it?"

"What you don't believe I have the power to foresee?"

"No."

"I happened to overhear the shopkeeper's wife praying at the Kamidana on the side of the building."

"But the egg!" It was one of the things that genuinely frightened the boy and at that pushed him to the side of actually believing the monk.

"Ahh yes," Miroku was now fully relaxed into the grass sharing a sly smile with Hatchi. "a bit of sleight of hand and fortunately I wasn't forced to use my own dark locks. The shopkeeper gracefully lent his own when he first tried to escort me out."

Meanwhile Jun was thumbing the painful bald spot at the back of his head while his wife while his wife was cleaning the egg mess, gasping with horror and amazement at how similar it looked to his own.

By now the man had an inkling he'd been had and when he opened the sack (the one the monk strictly warned him not to open until the warding had "peaked"). He knew he'd been had. It was too late however for the thieves was ri away followed by an increasingly doubtful boy wondering how the hell he ended up in leagues with criminals and how the hell one of them was his sister's fiancé.

o-o-oOo-o-o-o

Sango left the hut (certainly a less packed affair with just the four of them and Inuyasha on the roof) she thought back to a conversation she had with the monk the day before she left.

She was busy preparing dried fish and fruit for her fiancé and brother's trip. She and Miroku were sharing a blissful and rare moment alone as keade had left to borrow a clay pot to replace the one Sango had yet again broke.

"Here this should support you while I'm gone." Miroku said handing her a thick, uneven envelope.

"What," In it, was plenty chucks of bronze, mon. "Houshi-sama why are you giving me this money?"

"I will be your husband soon, I must provide after all. Use it to your liking. food, lodging, what have you."

It was confusing to say the least but pleasure bloomed in her chest at the masculine providing yet liberal gesture.

And now as she rolled the coins between her bandaged fingers (from her earlier sewing lesson, she got a bit to enthused and clumsy when handing the needle). Something about that money made her brain click. Where had this money come from? _From conning of course, _but that wasn't the right question _when_ had this money come from?

In their group, when traveling, they rarely used money. The Inutachi had no use for it with roasted fish, dug up wild roots and Kagome providing ninja food. For weeks at a time they would be nourished by the future girl's bevy of dried food delicacies from a far away land.

And camping out was usually their only option either being away from any remotely populated area or a grumpy hanyou and two youkai persuading otherwise hospitable homeowners from allowing the group a nights stay. Any money that could have been made killing youkai was quickly bartered away for a warm meal and a clean bed.

The monk never tried much conning while traveling, though Sango did remember the first few weeks. The young woman completely scandalized by Miroku's actions of blackmailing a headman. As immoral the headman's actions (replacing and lying about sacrificing his son to a two-bit water god), she found his brazenness shocking and from a monk no less! She recalled them stopping at a town for him to trade away the horses and finery he managed to get out of the headman. Where had all that money gone? Had he stored it away? Was that why he was leaving, to get it? Did he have more from his past independent travels stored away?

If so, why did he feel they needed such fortune? Everyone in the village was more than willing to build them a home. She didn't expect him to be a sharecropper, youkai slaying would support them.

"Whacha got there?" Inuyasha peaked over her form.

"Money … more than I've ever seen. Miroku gave it to me."

"Yeah, that jerk is always jangling around with his money."

"Really? How do you know?"

"I can smell it on 'em."

"Dose he carry around a lot?"

"mmm… no that's probably all he had with him," he said pointing to the envelope.

This confirmed Sango's idea that Miroku was doing more that visiting his master, _a money run._ The money she had was a lot but not the kind of large amount he got from the headman and god knows what else from his previous travels and scamming. What it had to do with Kohaku and how it would affect her was still up in the air, _possibly … maybe a wedding kimono would be bought?_ She didn't want to keep so high of hopes. Whatever tricky business he was doing she didn't believe it was malevolent or deceitful. Her instincts would usually point her in the right direction when it came to the monk. The world was too clear of evil for him to do anything harmful.

What she could concentrate on was what her world was to be once these six months were over. When they returned fall would just begin and she was determined to cook a large celebratory meal BY HERSELF and it was what she would work towards all summer.

With that goal in mind Sango set out the next day with mild guidance by Kaede to cook her friends a meal.

oo-oOo-oo

Shippo tentativly slurped, "Its great Sango."

"You did a fine job, child."

"MMM … Rin loves it."

"Tastes like shit." The dish was not a spicy one, so there was no reason for Inuyasha to loudly eject it from his mouth and angrily voice his detest but he certainly wasn't going to pull any punches with the newly learning Sango. The student was kneeled beside him eagerly waiting his opinion of her first cooked meal and was not happy upon hearing it.

"What," The taijiya's face was stricken as she took a sip from the simmering pot suspended over the fire pit. Her face soured before the woman let out an expletive, "I forgot the salt."

"Really? I think you added to much salt," Shippo said in between ladling water into his mouth in an attempt to wash out the taste.

"Most of the stew is quite scorched," said Keade, stirring and inspecting.

"Rin found a fish bone."

"The rice sucks too, did you even cook it?"

Sango then collapsed under the weight of her own failure.

Sango found domestic work was a lot about repetition. Stitch after stitch, scrub after scrub, fold after fold. They were patterns the woman was use to. Only before it was lift after lift, maneuver after maneuver, pound after pound. All under the watchful and critical gaze of a mentor, her father now Kaede, it was comforting to have someone standing over you, guiding you. She was eternally grateful to the old miko and thanked Miroku for the money Sango could give her. At least she could toss some of her weight around in that form because frankly housewifery lessons were not going well. The taijya had lost, broke and bungled more pots, laundry and stitches than she knew how to apologize for.

It was so unusual for her to fail so terribly, to be so sloppy. And it was making her crazy and even sloppier.

Sango had a problem; there was still a level of detachment. While taijiya training had repetition it also had a crescendo, where not only were your skills tested but your ability to move and react quickly and correctly. It would be a matter of life and death where as how long you fermented your miso was not.

Still while sewing, laundry, gardening, and pickling were her worst subject. There was still cooking which had some of the improvisation she was looking for in a task but she was still the worst at it.

If she was going to be good at one thing it _had_ to be the ability to make a meal for her husband and brother. Indeed kneeling over the hearth inhaling the scents gave her the most vivid fantasies of caring for her family.

Her fantasies trailed some as she thought of her future husband. It was a quiet hour into the night and Sango was soaking nori for a simple dashi to be stored overnight. Keade was putting Rin and Shipo to bed. Inuyasha, as the month grew warmer strayed away from the cabin for a tree to sleep in.

The simple smell of dashi was warm and calming and heat radiated on Sango's cheeks, chest and thighs as she stirred. How she missed that monk and now she was missing him in a wholly new way. What she wouldn't give for his comforting presence right now.


	4. Ghosts

"Kagome I wish you wouldn't take those." Mrs. Higurashi stopped mid sip of her tea to fret over her daughter, popping an energy pill.

"Mamma I'm just taking a few. It's only until this calculus test is over."

"Those things are filled with caffeine and who knows what else. And you said the same thing two weeks ago about a term paper."

"Maybe Kagome wouldn't need those things if she slept at night," Souta grumped over his toast. "What were you _doing _at two in the morning?"

The Higurashi family was sharing a breakfast as the younger Higurashi's were scurrying around preparing for school.

"Uhhh… nothing I wasn't up. You must be hearing things, Souta." She said hiding her face and securing zippers.

"If Kagome's having a trouble sleeping at night I might have a remedy." The eldest Higurashi would only lower his newspaper to disperse stories or unwanted advice.

"It's not kappa's tongue or something like that is it Jii-chan?" Kagome haughtily replied.

The old man looked disgruntled and then re-raised his newspaper.

Kagome resumed calming her mother. "I promise its fine. These … are all natural and herbal. See its says that right on the bottle."

"Mmm…"

Kagome personally, agreed with her mother. The pills were probably full of chemicals and a quick trip to a heart attack. But they were the only thing that worked. She promised herself and her mother that she would stop taking them as soon as she found a way to sleep.

Kagome was still unwilling to tell her family about the nightmares. They had started a couple of months ago. They were of terrible monsters choking the life out of her, of fire, of spider webs, of blood, poison and smoke. The images would flash before her eyes. The worst part, the dreams were all so hopeless, no one to answer to her screams. And when she did try to scream and run, Kagome would feel crushing weight on her chest. She would try to fight and yell through it until she was released and her screams became real and would wake her brother.

Kagome just decide to give up sleep altogether and replace wakefulness with artificial alertness.

It seems all those horrific scenes Kagome witnessed had caught up to her.

In her traveling days, those deathly situations became old hat; they blew away from her conscious. They were tragic experiences but never stuck with her. In Kagome's heart she was safe from danger. Inuyasha was with her why fret about personal safety and past danger.

It was now all crashing back to her, swallowing her in the fear and power. In her now alone state, she became aware of how weak and vulnerable she was. Inuyasha made her forget, made it easy to walk around self assured. How easily she could have been crushed and almost was, were it not for certain divine protectors.

Her only sanity saver was never having sensed nor seen a real youkai or oni in her time, and her arrows. Kagome wasn't totally helpless. She had a wisp of faith in her own power. It had saved her and her friends once or twice. But Kagome felt she lacked good intuition and reflexes to really feel safe.

That's what brought her out that late afternoon with her bow, that and the match against the school across town in three weeks. Her grandfather had allowed her a tree in the rear of the shrine grounds to practice.

Even pull through, concentrated breathing, steady limbs, soon all the youkai Kagome felled with her bow appeared before her. If the aim had been skewed, if a moment's hesitation had occurred to her, would she be dead?

Her movement rocked into a steady rhythm, taunt arm and stiff shoulders.

If her aim was off now, if she had hesitated Kagome was certain she was a goner. _Don't think like that! There are no shikon shards. There isn't that kind of power in this world to attract any youkai, oni _or_ evil spirits of any kind._

But Kagome couldn't help it. She was continually driving her arrows into various beasts' flesh instead of the old bark of a diseased tree. The swift of her arrow was accompanied by an imaginary splat, resonate hot air and youki escaped as their bodies burst apart. Each time the string was released the youkai became more realized and her arrow lagged more.

The noh mask floated towards her. Its terrifying body pulsating and twisting with the body parts of other people but making no noise as it moved to the foreground from the darkness. It looked completely _in_ place next to her modern aluminum sided house. Her bow broke and fell out of her hand and Kagome collapsed.

Of course there was no demon mask. Kagome realized that sitting in gravel, the throbbing in her shoulder and bicep waking her from her delusion. Angled shafts and fletchings flitted across the grounds, casting long shadows from the setting sun. The girl really hoped she hadn't damaged anything. Her grandfather would throw a fit and Kagome might have to explain why her aim was so afflicted. Her bow wasn't broken either, high grade aluminum and fiberglass, her purified wood one was stored in her room. It would take a lot to break this one.

The girl was called to dinner but afterwards she continued to practice her stance and grip in her bedroom late into the night.

The next day Kagome was struck with a keen sort of nostalgia, walking into school unprepared.

"You forgot to study it!"

"That's so unlike you. You must have a new boyfriend."

"No! Just got a little distracted is all. I feel terrible." Kagome shrugged. "Hey do you guys hear that? That rumbling?" It sent a tingling down Kagome's spine.

"Oh I think there doing construction next door … or something anyway …" Ayumi continued talking of her plans for her birthday as the foursome of school girls marched down the hallway.

Kagome was too distracted to hear. The girl kept expecting a poisonous tendril to crash through the ceiling. Not unlike Her and Inuyasha's run in with the Nikosen. Its youki and the spiritual senki clashed making it also most impossible to sense. Just a rumbling, shaking the rocky enclave where they were hiding before a deadly root spiked out, like now no evil aura to serve as a warning.

As the troop neared their classrooms Kagome internally fretted about another subject. What her teacher would say when he found she failed to complete her assignment. Kagome certainly didn't get her studying done on the night of the Nikosen. She remembered with a weary smile.

Inuyasha was human that night. Would her paranoid state be a constant should she be with a human Inuyasha? _like Kikyo wanted _Kagome thought as her and her friends came to a stop.

"So you _are _coming to the concert?" Ayumi asked in her most serious tone.

"Yeah … sure."

Ayumi couldn't shut up about how exited she was about her favorite boy band coming to town. Kagome, Eri and Yuka had already pooled their money to buy her backstage pass to be presented to her the night of. But the frayed girl feared actually going to the crowded event given her new delusions and sleeping problem.

The girls came to a crossroads and Kagome and Eri separated to their classroom. Oh the look of her teacher when she stepped in empty handed, High school was supposed to be a fresh start where she wasn't a constantly sick slacking off idiot.

o-o-oOo-o-o

She let out a breath as the bell rung out marking the end of first period and the exit of her disappointed educator and now she was sitting in the limbo between classes. The dull clash and chatter of her classmates surrounding her but all she could hear was the taping of her pen and her own concentrated breathing. The rumbling had become more pronounced and her shame about homework lingered. Then all at once jyaki surrounded her. The entire room darkened to a sickly purple.

Had Kagome been in an evener mind she would realize the flair in her senses was a bled over feeling from her hallucination. But she was too filled with adrenaline to cognitively function.

A sick and woeful feeling was overcoming her. She wasn't just worried the school was now being filled with shouki but sure of it. The end of her high school was nigh and all Kagome could do was be sick about it. She wanted leave and be free of the poison air but she was certain of her own demise.

Her heart pounded rapidly making her not trust its ability to continue pumping. She stumbled from her desk, running into her economics teacher on her way out.

"Higurashi?"

She couldn't respond, if Kagome opened her mouth bile would tumble out. Her teacher, her class they all had such a dumbfounded look on their faces. Didn't they feel it? See the tentacles twisting around the table legs?

Kagome rushed to the bathroom.

The wet heaving echoed around the stalls along with her sobs.

"Kagome-chan?" Eri had followed her in.

Kagome had finished vomiting and now was just crying.

"Kagome-chan? Will you open the door?"

It swung open and Eri stroked the distressed girl's back who was crouched over the bowl.

"I'm sorry… I thought … I," Kagome babbled.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Eri I'm going crazy. I can even sense youki properly."

"What are you talking about?"

Kagome shook her head and mashed her palms against her eyes.

"Are you getting sick again? Like last year?"

"Oh Eri, I wasn't sick last year. I was with Inuyasha."

"You mean he made you ditch all those days, weeks! I thought he was nice."

"No we had to …. do a job together and now that job's over and he's gone and…" Kagome to a few hurried gulps of air, her eyes re-watered. "And without him I think I'll float away."

Eri tried to simper Kagome out of her renewed sobs until she finally hoisted her out of the disgusting bathroom stall and loudly told her to go home and she would make the hysterical girl's excuses.

Kagome crossed the school grounds to leave, a solitary figure on the sun soaked concrete.

"HI-GU-RA-SHI!" Akira Saito spotted his archery pupil, but before he was leaning against a chain link fence surrounding the ekiden track patronizingly cheering on his fellow runners who were not fortunate enough to finish as fast as him.

Kagome approached the fence.

Akira threaded his fingers through the chains, the fence bowing outward with his weight. "You breaking outta here?"

"No… I'm sick but I'll be here for club tomorrow don't worry."

"Don't lie to me, Higurashi. You reddened your nose. You put on the dramatics just to get out of a little homework." He sarcastically chided.

It succeeded in getting a laugh out of dour Kagome. "No … no I swear."

"Yeah … sure and this _better _not make you miss practice tomorrow."

"Okay," Kagome uneasily smiled "I really have to go home and get some rest."

"And hey when you feel better be sure to work on your high shots!" Akira called to her retreating back.

o-o-oOo-o-o

_A few months and five hundred years ago_

Finding a resting tree was serious business. You would think in the warming spring a blooming, leafy maple would serve nicely. But this early in the year the maples and red cedars were to sappy and fragrant for him.

No, a dying kusu was perfect, not a diseased, it would give off a sour smell. The soft subtle smell of decay of a naturally dying tree was calming. The kusu's curvy trunk were suited to fit your back against.

There was only one tree that fit these criteria within the tiny village's scent and hearing range, necessity was the only reason it was chosen.

But for some fucking reason the villagers had blessed it, tying a thick braided rope around it. When he inquired about it to Kaede after resisting the tremendous urge to slice it with his claws, she said they dubbed it, "sacred repose site of the protector"and he dubbed _that_ bullshit.

And now as he was shadowed by the holy plant, ready to launch, there was a small stone shrine.

"The fuck is this?"

A giggle echoed through the forest and Shippo appeared with a pop munching on a peach. "Ichiro and the men built you a shrine with Kaede-sama's help."

"You're not fooling anyone with that stupid trick."

"Fooled you!"

"In your fucking dreams, I saw you as clear as the nose on my face."

Shippo bristled, "Why would they build a mean jerk like you a shrine? You don't even deserve this offering."

"Offering?"

Shippo proudly held up his half eaten peach along with a half bushel in his other hand, juice running down his smug mouth.

Inuyasha promptly gave him a punch in the head, causing peaches to roll across dirt and roots. One was snatched and smashed into Inuyasha's own mouth.

"But still why would they do this? Don't they know I'm a youkai not a god or a spirit." He said between chewing.

"Well you've saved them, haven't you baka!"

"Not for them! …and not for kami either."

Beyond the anger Inuyasha was terribly befuddled and uncomfortable. He didn't like the title dog-god in the monkey spirit village then and he didn't like it now.

Those farmers and their sad humble faces angled over their clapped hands in their dirty clothes and their mangled work beaten fingers. They didn't just pray for protection. He could hear them murmur for good crops and healthy children and all under his resting tree. _How could they lower themselves by praying to him or that old shitty tree?_

Living here for extended weeks Inuyasha learned he wasn't suited for peasant living. It wasn't the hard work. He lived on his own, off the land for years. It was their pathetic lean towards victimhood that he could not tolerate. The aristocrats he grew up with weren't like this, they had power. But even when you _are_ powerless you have to fight for yourself, not pray to some asshole with a big sword or any god for that matter.

Their sad defenselessness perhaps reminded him of himself at his weakest or youngest moments. He remembered during those times staring at those wooden boxes lit up by lanterns nestled in a valley wanting desperately to be frightened and hauled up _with_ them. He hated those lonely defenseless days and would never go back.

So Inuyasha guessed he had to get use to dog-god.

o-o-oOo-o-o

Author's note: Now that I have a total of THREE comments, which I can't even begin to tell you how happy that makes me I'm pressing my palms against my glowing cheeks just thinking about the nice things you people said, I figured I should thank y'all.

blackirishawk I know you made your first comment three months ago and I'm a lazy jerk but you're my first and I must give you a hardy thanks. And a second hardy thanks for being my third, that dinner scene was actually from a direct transcript from my own family's dinner table. I was the cruel Inuyasha that told my mom her Japanese food tastes like shit. Keep wondering!

AM78 I see what you're saying but I like to think Miroku doesn't really consider his gropes and fondling real attempts at anything.

To me Miroku has a jokey, grabby side and a suave, Don Draper side that he uses for actual seduction. They are the two parts of his Casanova personality.

His thought was meant to be a joke, in the paragraph where it stated he was planning to only exchange kisses before the wedding the very next one he was about to grab a handful of Sango.

In the face of something actually happening he puts on his mega-seduction and doesn't grab or grope because if you're a lady you know that's the opposite of sexy.

I do try to be sly when trying to tell this story. Thanks for noticing. This is my first long form fiction and am always trying to think of different storytelling techniques to keep this thing interesting.

Sango and Miroku's journeys will be separate but eventually bring them together.


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